Can I Protect You?
by hochmodel
Summary: Calhoun suffers from PTSD, and Felix is always there for her. But what happens when the roles are reversed, and he's the one waking up, screaming?


_A gray tombstone marked the Fix-it-Felix Jr. game. It did not fit with the rest of the homey apartments, so it was set in the back of the tall building, where no player could see the somber shape. _

_Felix walked over to the grave, knelt, and took off his hat. He couldn't look at the name on the grave, for it was his love's name- the woman he missed dearly. "Sergeant Tamora Jean Calhoun". No name was ever prettier- nor deadlier- than hers. And now...it would never be said in the present tense; only the past._

"_It's all your fault, you know." Ralph grumbled, coming from behind. Felix said, nothing; just bowed his head in shame. "If you could do you job- if you could have **fixed it!**- she would be fine. She wouldn't have died."_

"_Ralph...please...I..." Felix whimpered, begging for it not to be true._

"_If she didn't need to protect you from the bugs, she would be here. If you weren't such a weakling; if you could defend yourself; if you weren't so small and cowardly, she would be fine!" Vanellope yelled in a fit of anger, tears streaming down her cheeks. _

"_You couldn't fix her. When she fell from the top of the building, your hammer couldn't fix her. It's YOUR FAULT!" Ralph roared cruelly. _

_Felix turned to them, the salt in his eyes blurring and stinging his vision. "Guys...I-"_

"_Look, Vanellope," Ralph spat, gesturing towards him. "He can't even be enough of a man to admit it's his fault."_

_Felix glanced back at the grave. It had changed. Her name was replaced with a phrase that the two cruel beings continuously repeated. _

"_It's your fault," the grave was marked. "that I died."_

"_No. No! NO!"_

"NO!" Felix bolted upright and panted, sweat pouring down his body. Tamora flipped over to him.

"You okay, Fix-it?" She asked him, pushing the disheveled strands of hair to their original place.

"Yes ma'am." He croaked out, continuing to pant. "Pull yourself together, Felix!" He thought.

"Don't lie to me, civilian." She sat up and pulled him into her lap "My gosh, he's trembling!" She thought.

"I-I-I-I'm..fine, m-ma'am." He said, though his voice, coated in fear, betrayed him.

"Fix-it, if you don't believe that bull-pucky every time I have a nightmare, which is quite often, what makes you believe I'm going to?!" She spoke a little harsher than she had intended.

"I-I...you died."

"I...what?" She asked softly, though clearly confused.

"You..." His voice cracked, and he bowed his head. "...died, ma'am. In my nightmare. And it was all my fault. I was at your grave, and Ralph and Vanellope kept saying that if I could protect you...if I wasn't such a weakling...then you would have been okay."

"Felix..." Her voice was heavy with confusion. "Is that what you're worried about? Protecting me?"

"Y-yes...ma'am. I don't know." He turned from her. "Tammy, I'm not strong, brave, and I'm not even half your height. I know...Brad...was. What on earth you see in me, I don't know, but I sure don't see it in myself."

"Fix-it...look at me." He didn't obey. She turned his chin so their eyes were meeting. "You are strong. You saved me from the Nesquick sand, remember? And you face your challenges head-on, never giving up, even in the face of hopelessness. You are brave- you stood your ground against a swarm of cybugs, and continue to do so whenever you visit my game. And...tall? Are you kidding?! Felix, you are twice the men my pussy-willows are, and they are taller and more muscled than me."

"You...mean that?" He asked, smiling.

She hugged him. "And I don't need protection. I can take care of myself."

"But that's just it." He pulled away from her. "You are always relying only on yourself. I...want you to start relying on me, more."

"Baby..."

"Tammy, hear me out. I know you are protective of me. But...I can protect you...if you let me."

"From what?!" She asked, exasperated. "I'm fine, Fix-it!"

"...I don't know." He looked down. "...I just want to do my job as your husband properly."

"Felix." She pulled him back into a hug. "You do protect me." He looked at her, confused. "You hold me when my nightmares get bad. You listen when the rookies drive me crazy and I get eaten twenty times. You are my voice of reason when my PTSD acts up. You are so patient, sweet, and gentle...I never thought I would get that again." She muffled into his hair, and he thought her voice cracked. "You are not the soldier that races into battle...that's me. You are the anchor that keeps me grounded. You are the lifeline when I'm drowning. And you are right where I need you."


End file.
